Rory in the City
by gilmoreboy
Summary: This story takes place after Rory sleeps with Dean at the end of S4. Confused and feeling trapped between obligations, Rory heads to New York to stay with her ex-boyfriend Jess. Rory decides to take control of her own life, using her time in New York to sort out what she wants from her life, and to get to know the passionate Jess all over again – this time as adults.
1. Chapter 1

_/ This story takes place after Rory sleeps with Dean and fights with Lorelai at the end of S4. Confused and feeling trapped between obligations, Rory heads to New York to see her ex-boyfriend Jess, even though she rejected him when he came to Yale and asked her to run away with him._

_This story borrows Ultrawoman's "The Runaways"'s amazing premise and heads in its own direction, as Rory decides to take control of her own life, using her time in New York to sort out her life, and to get to know the passionate Jess all over again–this time as adults._

When Rory Gilmore turned up on his doorstep in New York, Jess thought he was the luckiest guy alive. She was in tears and part of him was terrified, worried about her, wondering why she was here, but another part – stronger than he'd like to admit – kept wanting to grin. He had a weird feeling in his chest, a sensation he thought maybe Ginsberg could describe – wanting to cry and laugh all at the same time. When he had asked her to run away with him, and she had said no, he thought it was the end. He had cursed himself for trying – no, not for trying, but for trying it _that way_. Of course she wasn't going to run away from Yale; she belonged in Yale. He felt he had alienated her once and for all, shown his true colours and she'd said no. He should have done it different. But now, she had come to him, of everyone. Not Loreali, not her grandparents, not Miss Paddy or Babette, not fucking Dean, but him.

They barely talked that first night. She had stopped crying when he put in a coffee in her hands, and after that just been very quiet. Jess didn't know her quiet, and if anything that disturbed him more than the crying. He figured, she'd talk about it later. Maybe she had a fight with her Mom – they both said they never fought, but he always had thought they were pretty different people deep down. Different enough that one day their perfect relationship might explode. He hoped that was it, fearing worse – after all, he guessed the Lorelais couldn't stay fighting for long. Jess slept on the hard floor of the loft, wearing a couple of sweaters and using some more as a pillow, while Rory slept in the bed. But in spite of the sleeping arrangements, when he looked up at Rory, who was doing her best saint impression in her sleep, he couldn't help hoping she'd have to stay here a few weeks. At least long enough for him to find some way to say sorry for his theatrics, maybe even to have another shot at convincing her to be with him. Thinking this, he felt guilty, selfish, like he was angling and making designs when clearly she was upset. But he couldn't help himself. He was certain; they were destined to be together. He knew it, and he didn't even believe in that destiny schtick – that was more his Mom's thing. But, knowing it was cheesy and new-age or whatever, he still swore he could feel it in his bones. It was torture just lying on the floor next to her, hearing her breathing, and it took him way longer than it should've to get to sleep.

His alarm went off at some ungodly time. It was like he'd never left Luke's apartment, with his not-even-5AM wake-ups. He groaned loudly and then realised Rory was there asleep, and tried to be quiet, leaning over to switch off his alarm. Then he got up and crept up to go to the bathroom, before accidentally tripping on a pile of books which fell over with a crash.

'Shit!' he whispered.

'Jess,' Rory said, sitting up, 'don't worry I'm awake.'

'Doesn't sound like you are. Go back to sleep.'

'No, no, I am. Look,' she opened her eyes extra wide, not able to hide the fact that they were bleary with sleep.

Jess realised he was in his underwear, even if he was wearing a couple of sweaters, and he looked embarrassed down at his bare legs.

'Maybe you oughta close your eyes again while I put some pants on.'

'Oh. Yeah,' Rory said, nodding in that Rory way with lips tight, 'OK. I'm Helen Keller. Do what you need to do.'

Jess snorted and pulled on some trackpants.

'I don't know if you should be using Helen Keller's name in vain.'

'Oh she wouldn't have minded. People forget but she actually had a great sense of humour.'

'Guess you'd have to.'

'Jess,' she reproved, in a familiar tone that for some reason made Jess' heart beat faster.

'OK, I'm decent. You can look. Not a pound of flesh on display.'

Rory uncovered her eyes and sat up higher, still looking sleepy.

'There's no light.'

'It's called night.'

'Is it even the morning?' Rory asked.

'You know what they say – early bird gets the crappy paycheck.'

She shook her head, stubbornly.

'I'm pretty sure you're not even allowed to wake up this early.'

'I told you to go back to sleep and you wouldn't.'

'Well I thought it was eight or something. But I'm looking out the window and now I'm thinking might not even be eight. What comes before eight?'

'It's seven.'

'Now or before eight, because I was joking about not knowing what comes before eight. I was actually top in my elementary school for counting.'

'That's quite an achievement, but are you sure you didn't just miscount yourself to number one? It's happened before. How do you think Bush won against Gore?'

Jess sat next to her on the bed, and Rory moved her legs away and smiled at him.

'It's seven o'clock,' he said, twisting his wrist so she could see his watch.

'I didn't even know there was a seven in the morning.'

'Didn't you have to get up for Chilton at seven?'

'I've blocked it out. For Yale, I…" she trailed off.

'You alright?'

'Yeah,' Rory said, smiling again but not very convincingly, 'of course.'

'You know you can talk to me, right?' Jess asked, eyebrow raised.

'Yeah,' Rory nodded, 'I know.'

'But your mouth still isn't moving, or are you ventriloquizing real quietly?'

'I'm sorry, Jess. I can't talk now, it's too early.'

'In the morning?'

'No – I mean in general. It's too fresh. I'm sorry. I know it sucks, me turning up like this and not telling you anything. But I will, soon. Is that OK?'

Jess shrugged: 'Whatever.'

Rory hid a laugh:

'I've missed that.'

'Missed what?'

'How you say 'whatever',' she said, copying his intonation.

He frowned:

'I don't say it like that.'

Rory nodded, 'oh yeah, you do.'

'Whatever,' he said accidentally, making Rory laugh and Jess to add, 'OK I made that too easy for you.'

They were silent for a minute, looking out the small window of the room as the black faded lighter.

'I'm happy you're here, Rory.'

'Me too.'

'Yeah?' He looked over.

She nodded, trying on a smile. They were silent for a while, a bit awkwardly, and then Jess stirred and stood up.

'I better shower.'

'Right,' Rory said, nodding again, 'that's good. Showering is good.'

Jess went off to the bathroom, picking up a towel from the floor, leaving Rory alone. She rubbed her eyes again; it really was early. She stood up, taking one of the blankets from the bed with her and wrapping it around her shoulders. She waddled up to the window and looked out, down onto the New York alley underneath them. It looked like a movie, it was so typically New York-y. Yale had finished for the year, so at least she wasn't missing any school.

But she knew that her Mom would be expecting her, probably sometime today. Especially after their fight the day before yesterday. She really should call. She picked up her phone and flicked through her old messages. There was one from Loreali a week ago, 'When u home? Mama lonely, big house, daughter neglectful. xx'. Another, later, after their fight, 'Come home and we can talk. Are u at gparents?'. And one more: 'R u with Dean?'. She pressed reply and typed out: 'In NY. With Jess. Back soon,' and then squeezing her eyes shut, pressed send. At least, Rory thought, her Mom wouldn't read it until at least ten o'clock, given that it was a Saturday. She wanted to put off talking to her as long as possible. She flicked through her other texts, many of which were from Paris, who managed somehow to transmit her tone of voice through the written word; reading them, Rory couldn't feel more distant from that world. What was she even doing here? She tried, unsuccessfully, not to think about Dean.

Jess walked back into the room, with a towel around his waist, fiddling with his hair. Rory glanced at his chest, still wet and shining, before looking away, embarrassed, out the window.

'Sorry,' Jess said, 'forgot my clothes.'

'It's OK. Helen Keller's looking out the window.'

Jess, seeing her turned away, let the towel drop and rooted around in the drawers for some boxers and a shirt. Rory, her heart beating fast, turned around and glanced at Jess, his pale olive skin, the soft curves of his bottom, the black hairs on his legs. She quickly turned back around, feeling a strange feeling in her stomach. What was wrong with her? One time with Dean, and then–all these feelings.

'Decent again.'

Rory turned around, still blushing.

'I'm working until 3. What are you going to do?'

'I'm not sure. Maybe wander around town.'

'Do you have any money?' Jess asked.

'Oh, no. But that's OK.'

'Here,' he said, passing her some notes.

'No, Jess, it's OK.'

'You need to eat, right? Don't tell me you aren't hungry.'

'I'm not, it's the middle of the night.'

'Just take the money, Rory,' he intoned.

'OK,' Rory said, taking it, 'thanks. I'll pay you back.'

'Don't sweat it.'

'Where are you working? Walmart?'

'You know how I love the Corporation.'

'Employee of the century.'

'Geez, if only my pay packet reflected my performance; I'm like the Einstein of that place. But I'm just working there until midday. Then I'm dropping by the bookshop.'

'Bookshop?'

'Yeah. I didn't tell you. I work in a bookshop. Kind of started one, actually.'

'You started a bookshop,' Rory asked, grinning, 'are you crazy?'

'Hey,' Jess said, defensive, 'Who said bookshops weren't booming business?'

'Is it?'

'Well, not really. But we just opened a few weeks ago.'

'I can't believe you _own_ a bookshop.'

'Me and a few other guys. And it's not like we own the building.'

'Still, Jess, it's amazing.'

Jess' stomach fluttered, seeing her approval.

'Thanks. Wanna visit?'

'Of course!'

'OK, meet you on 5th at 12.30, alright?'

'Which 5th?'

'I'll write it down for you.'

'OK, good. Maybe draw a picture. And leave a map.'

'You want me to come back here first and show you?' Jess asked, 'Because I don't want to find you two weeks later living in a dumpster.'

'No, it's OK. I can manage it.'

'Sure you'll be OK by yourself? This isn't Stars Hollow.'

'Jess, I'll be fine.'

'OK. Good.'

They stood, looking at each other.

'Hey, do you want a hug?' He asked, suddenly, almost looking nervous.

'What?'

'A hug. You know, arms around, human contact.'

'Oh. Yeah. Yes, I do.'

Jess came towards her and Rory's heart again started beating into overdrive. He put his arms around her and drew her in. Rory inhaled deeply, smelling the familiar Jess smell that was in his pillow, that was all around the room. She felt stupidly intoxicated by it. Jess said quietly:  
>'You know, I meant what I said at Yale.'<p>

'I know.'

He pulled back and stared at her for a minute and then gave a shrug.

'See you later,' he said in his usual, casual voice. Rory hated and loved how quick he was to change, for a moment he was right there with her, pouring his heart out and a second later, miles away.

'12.30,' Rory said.

'Right, 12.30, and hey, don't mope alright?'

'I don't mope. I'm not a mope-r.'

'Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one cleaning your computer keyboard on a Saturday night?'

'That was your fault!'

Jess shrugged again, making that don't-look-at-me face of his:

'Hey, just saying. Make sure you get outside. There are hot dogs out there, remember.'

_All feedback is appreciated :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Rory made her way around the apartment, tip-toeing around so as not to wake the flatmates, who she hadn't met yet but had heard come in late at night. She had a shower and got changed, and walked out to find a woman, in her twenties, cooking eggs on the stove in a nightgown.

'You're not Jess,' she said.

'No, I'm Rory.'

'Rory?'

'Well, Lorelai. But everyone calls me Rory.'

'Well, sure. I'm Jo. I think Jess has talked about you.'

'Really? Yeah, maybe.'

'You're the girl he's in love with.'

'Oh,' Rory said, tightening the towel around her.

'Sorry,' Jo said, 'was that rude?'

'No,' she said, mustering a smile, 'Isn't it always nice to hear that someone loves you?'

'Depends who it is,' Jo said.

'Guess so.'

'What's Jess like?' Jo asked, flipping an egg.

'Oh, you don't know him?'

'Not well. I just moved in a few weeks ago and he's always at work or wherever. He seems pretty quiet.'

'He is quiet.'

'He's pretty dreamy.'

'Yeah,' Rory said, 'he's got a kind of dream-like thing to him.'

'Bad boy.'

'He's not that bad.'

'I figured. You don't look like a bad girl. Hey, do you want some eggs? I've got heaps. Like actually, it's like I'm trying to rehome the caged egg population. You think they'll recover?'

'I think you'll be free-ranging any day now.'

'Here,' Jo said, dextrously reaching for a plate and picking up an egg at the same time. She passed it over to Rory, and then threw a fork onto the table.

Rory picked it up, and realised she was starving. As quickly as decency would allow, she went to work on her fried egg. It was almost as good as Luke made. The thought of Luke made her stomach clench. Luke meant Stars Hollow, and Stars Hollow meant Dean.

'So what brings you to New York?'

'I screwed everything up,' Rory said, shrugging.

'You know, that's a pretty popular reason to come to New York. Don't beat yourself up.'

'Not even original, am I? Do you know, this is the second time I've done this.'

'Come here to see Jess?'

'Yeah. I skipped school a few years ago to come and see him.'

'Romantic tryst?'

'Not even that. We just kind of, hung out. I don't know. I guess it was romantic, in it's own way. But I had a boyfriend.'

'A boyfriend, huh?' Jo said, sitting down opposite her, 'maybe you are a bad girl.'

Rory shrugged:

'I think Jess is just the one guy that makes me do crazy things. Things I'd never usually do at all. You know, I didn't tell anyone I was coming here. Not even my Mom, and she's not like a _Mom_ Mom, I tell her everything, and now she's wondering where I am. I don't know what I'm doing.'

'I can see Jess doing that to a person.'

'Right? I'm glad it's not just me.'

'I think it's the hair.'

Rory nodded, sagely, 'I think you might be right. Something about that hair.'

Jo looked thoughtful, eating her eggs. Rory continued:

'It's weird, how people can just walk into your life and totally flip it around.'

'It definitely is.'

'I thought I had things pretty straight. Even when I was younger, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, exactly what I wanted to be. I was the one who had it organised – everyone knew what I was going to do and how I was going to do it. That must sound arrogant.'

Jo shrugged.

'I don't mean it to be. It just was so simple, everything was straightforward. And now I guess it's all muddled because of a guy. Because of a couple of guys. Pretty stupid, huh?'

'Pretty normal, probably. I know the feeling. Although it was a couple of girls that screwed me up, not so much with the guys.'

'Oh. Yeah, fair enough. Do you still see either of them?'

'No, one moved to Alaska of all goddamn places. And one is in New York, but I never see her. She's moved on. But I always sort of hope I'll turn a corner and see her, and we'll start back up again.'

'That's what I thought about Jess, all this year. But when he did turn up, I didn't do anything.'

'Why not?'

'He asked me to leave school, and run away with him. And I couldn't do that,' Rory said.

'What's wrong with that? He asked you to do something you didn't want to do.'

'I know. I don't regret it, exactly. I regret how I handled it. Because when he came, I realised how much I'd missed him, and how long I'd been thinking about him. I don't think I ever really got over him, never really forgave him for leaving like he did.'

She paused for a minute.

'Sorry for talking so much,' Rory said, 'I usually don't talk like this.'

'No worries. You're not talking that much. And plus, I'm interested.'

Rory's phone rang and her heart dropped in her chest. She got it out of her pocket, and saw that it was Lorelai. She had woken up early, for once. Again, a sinking feeling: she must have been worried, probably unable to sleep.

'Sorry,' Rory said, 'thanks for the eggs.'

'No worries,' Jo said, picking up the plates.

Rory answered her phone.

'Hi, Mom.'

'Rory! You're in New York? What the hell! You had me so worried.'

Rory shut Jess' door behind her and went and sat down on the bed.

'Don't be mad.'

'Mad! I'm not mad. Confused, but not mad. What are you doing there, hon?'

'I don't know. I just had to get away.'

'From me?'

'From everything!' Rory said.

'And you went to Jess? What about Dean?' Lorelai said.

'I don't want to talk about Dean.'

'Honey, I get that, but we're going to have to talk about Dean at some point. It's going to be talked about, and we may as well get a head start on it. But if it's going to make you hang up the phone or not want to talk to me, then we won't talk about it. Up to you.'

'I just don't want to talk about it now.'

'Have you told Jess about Dean?' Lorelai asked.

'No. No I haven't.'

'Well, don't you think you should? I love you, Rory, but you're not being fair, running into his arms and not telling him.'

'I haven't run into his arms,' Rory protested.

'You're there, aren't you?'

'Yes, but nothing's happened. We're just friends.'

'Rory,' Loreali said, in her come-on-be-realistic way.

'What? Mom I can't help it I can't talk about Dean, I can't come home. I just need a break.'

'We don't have to talk about it now. But come home. We can watch _Footloose_. We can get takeaways from Al's and have a girl's night in. If you really can't stand it, we won't talk about it. I promise. We'll develop a sign language which doesn't have any words for boys, just for food and movies. Or we'll lock the door and say we've gone to California.'

'I want to, Mom, but I can't just leave Jess now.'

'You're not getting back with him, are you Rory? After how he left?'

'I don't know! He came to Yale.'

'What? Jess went to Yale?'

'Yeah. He drove all the way out there and asked me to run away with him.'

'Boy, say what you will about him, the kid knows how to make a romantic gesture.'

'I said no.'

'But you're there now. He must think you've changed your mind. That this is a 'yes'. Have you changed your mind?'

'I don't know. No.'

'Then staying there is going to give him all kinds of weird signals. Rory, come home and we can talk it over together. I miss you, babe.'

'I will. Soon. I miss you too, Mom.'

Rory had tears in her eyes but she brushed them out fiercely.

'I've got to go. Talk to you later.'

'OK,' Lorelai said, 'later. Promise?'

'I promise.'

'Say hello to Jess from me,' Lorelai said, 'I guess.'

'He's a better guy than you think, Mom.'

'I know, honey. But he's only a guy. I'm still here. Yale's still there, and all your friends. I know it seems like nothing else matters or exists but they still do.'

'I know.'

Jo led Rory around New York for an hour before she had to head off to work. She appreciated the company, enjoying her Brooklyn drawl and her no-shit approach to anything and anyone she met. She did wonder, though, what she actually thought of her, coming here all alone for a boy, being completely reliant on him. Rory felt embarrassed, for even though Jo had no idea what she was like, or what Rory liked to think she was like, she felt she was disappointing her, or making a bad impression. Being here felt like an imposition, not just on Jess, or on Jo, but a black mark against her independence as a person. Usually, she prided herself on being a self-contained person, someone able to deal with things better than other people, to operate as her own agent. Now, she felt dependent, and she didn't know how to fix it. Even going home – as attractive as that option seemed – would just mean becoming dependent on her mother, letting her fix everything for her, bandage her wounds, nurse her back to health.

She got a hot dog from a stand (not quite as good as the first one she had had in New York), and looked around. Unfamiliar people, unfamiliar faces, walked all around her. But at least this time she wasn't in her Chilton uniform. Rory decided she had to make some decisions; it was the only way to reclaim her sense of self, to make her feel like Rory again. She wished she could make a pro-con list, but shook her head–she had to make a decision like an adult, to go with her gut. As cheesy as it sounded, she knew a pro-con list wouldn't help solve the problems of her heart. _Problems of the heart_, she wanted to be sick. Lane would laugh at her. _Lane_. She desperately wanted to call Lane, but again stopped herself. She needed to do this alone.

Mentally, she held Dean and Jess in her head, and alongside them her mother, Luke, Stars Hollow and all the people and memories it represented. Her Mom was right. As always, she was infuriatingly right. Dean was a married man, and as much as that night had meant to her – and it really had meant something – it wasn't something she could pursue. She thought back to that night, realising that even _in the act_ it had seemed somehow like a memory, like something happening in the past that meant something _backwards_. It had been more a nod to their past relationship, to the love they still felt for each other, but perhaps not a rekindling of it. Rory liked this idea; it felt poetic and fitting. It did some justice, she thought, to how strongly she had felt for Dean, even though it ended the way it did. If only he hadn't been married – she didn't think she would regret it at all. She blushed slightly, thinking about him kissing her mouth, breathing against her neck, kissing lower.

_I love you, Rory. I never loved anyone else like I loved you._

_ Me too. I want to say something original, but I can't. I love you, too, Dean. You're like a brother to me._

_ A brother?_ Dean said, looking up.

_Well not exactly like a brother. _Dean, laughing. _Hey, shut up, I've never had a brother!_

_Neither, but let's hope a brother wouldn't do this_…

But Jess. After her fight with her Mom, she hadn't thought of Dean, she had thought of Jess. And if she'd loved Dean (yes, admittedly, a bit like a brother–or what? A kissing cousin? She almost shivered at the term), she loved Jess differently. As a man. But he had tried to make her leave Yale. He had left without telling her goodbye. He was a man, but was he a good one? Was he a good person?

Deep in her thoughts, when she looked around again, she was almost surprised to find herself in New York, again. There must be something you can do alone in New York. She checked her watch. 10.30. Two hours until she was going to meet Jess. Rory didn't intend to be waiting around, doing nothing, until he was ready to see her. If they were going to get to know each other again, her and Jess, then it would be on even terms. He wouldn't dictate terms without Rory dictating terms of her own. This, at least, was enough of a decision for her to get going and to do something, and having made it, Rory felt suddenly better. She realised, distantly, that Lorelai would probably have had similar advice – would have made the same decision herself – but Rory was proud to have got their on her own. She had always admired her mother's independence, her refusal to let herself be influenced or manipulated by other people. If she sometimes needed to learn how to surrender herself, Rory needed to learn the opposite, too easy to walk-over sometimes, too eager to smooth things over: a peace-maker between her Mom and her grandparents, a peace-maker at school, not quite a leader, but a mediator. But Rory resolved to lead, if not the entire world like Paris, then at least herself–to control her own fate.


	3. Chapter 3

Rory folded the map as tightly as she could and put it in her backpocket, knowing that if he saw it Jess would make fun of her, but she liked to be prepared. She had already marked about fifteen places nearby on the map that she wanted to visit. Right now, though, she was heading to Jess' bookshop. A block away, she saw him standing outside, leaning against the wall in that Jess-way, hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised at everyone who walked past, as though to say, "yeah, so?".

He looked up when he saw her and smiled, not in his cynical way, but with what looked like real excitement. Rory felt a hand gripping her stomach. Jess quickly regained his composure.

'You're here,' he said.

'All in one piece,' she replied.

'Shall we?' Jess said, indicating the door next to them. They were at the bottom level of what looked like a terrace apartment, but that, upon closer inspection, had been converted, a sign hanging above the door saying Nimbus Books.

'Nimbus? Nice name.'

'I hate that name,' Jess replied, his hand pushing through his hair, 'do you know how hard it is to make a logo for a nimbus? I told them to make it something normal, a horse or something.'

'A horse?'

'Something that people can actually draw. A word that people actually know.'

'I know what a nimbus is,' Rory objected.

'Yeah, well the rest of your clientele isn't necessarily Yale-educated. So, are we going in?'

'Not yet,' Rory said.

'Why not?'

'I need to talk to you.'

'Oh geez, right now?'

'I thought you wanted to talk,' Rory said.

He shrugged, 'this _talk_ doesn't sound good.'

'It's not bad, I promise. There are just some things I need to say.'

'OK, but if this is you pouring pig's blood on me at the prom, I don't forgive so easy.'

'As easy as Carrie?' Rory asked.

'She was a dreamboat, trust me.'

Rory smiled, and pulled him along around the block until they found a bench that was clear. They sat down and Rory collected her thoughts.

'So,' Jess said, 'what'd you wanna say to me?'

'First of all, I want to say thank you.'

'Thank you? For what?'

'For having me to stay. For taking me in like that, for no reason.'

He shrugged, 'no problem.'

'It is a problem. It was totally unfair of me to do that.'

'You would've done the same for me, right?'

'I guess. Yes, of course, but–'

Jess interrupted:

'So I did what anyone would do, don't give me extra credit.'

'OK, fine. Have a normal amount of credit. Happy?'

'Ecstatic,' Jess said rolling his eyes.

'This next bit you're not going to like,' Rory said, hesitantly.

'OK, make it quick.'

'I didn't come here to take up your offer. This isn't me running away from Yale with you. I can't do that, Jess, I can't leave Yale. I can't leave my home or my family. So you just have to know right now that that isn't what I'm going to do. And–'

'Rory, wait. I know all this. I know you're not running away.'

'You do?'

'Yeah,' Jess said, sighed, and looked her right in the eyes, 'I was stupid. Coming to see you at Yale like that, asking you to run away with me. That was stupid. I was an idiot. I don't even know what I was thinking. I keep going over it and wanting to kick myself.'

Rory looked at him, wondering whether he finally understood.

'Of course you weren't going to leave Yale. You _are_ Yale, Rory. And I don't understand it but I know it, now. To take you away from that would be like ––'

'Like what?'

'Like – taking you away from your mother,' he finished, sarcastically.

'I almost wanted to Jess.'

'Wanted to what?'

'Go with you. I couldn't and I can't, but I wanted to,' Rory said, feeling tears prickling in her eyes. She blinked them away quickly.

'But why are you here _now_, Rory? You still haven't told me. What happened?'

'I––' Rory started. _I slept with Dean. Dean! _

'Did you have a fight with your Mom?' Jess asked.

'Yes.'

'Over what?'

'I – I can't talk about it yet, Jess. I'm so so sorry to do this to you, but I can't. I will tell you everything soon.'

'Fine, whatever Rory,' Jess said and then added, softer, 'it's fine. Tell me when you want to, or can or whatever.'

'I'm sorry, Jess. Please understand.'

'I can't understand when I don't know!' he said, frustrated, 'you were crying Rory, you never cry.'

Rory shrugged, but didn't answer. Jess stood up and paced for a bit around the bench. Rory watched him, not sure what to say. Suddenly, he rounded on her:

'Tell me this, though, Rory. You came here. What does _that_ mean?'

'That I trust you. That I consider you a friend.'

'A friend? What kind of a friend? Because this isn't like any other sort of friendship I've ever had.'

'I don't know! Jess, I don't know. I loved you. I know I said I wasn't sure if I did, but I did. I know I did, but you _left_, and you didn't call or you didn't call enough. You just left me, Jess. What kind of a friend is that?'

'A crappy one. I know and I'm sorry, Rory,' he was pacing again, gesticulating all over the place. He let out a groan: 'God, I wish you could just see inside my head because I can't explain it. I fucked it all up, Rory. But I _had_ to come to Yale; I couldn't _stand_ it. I couldn't go an hour without thinking about you – I felt like I was stuck in a Keats' poem and you know how much I hate Keats. But I felt like that, all on the edge of everything and I couldn't help it, I had to see you. And I did it wrong and I said the wrong things. I knew they were wrong even when I was saying but I just kept saying them.'

Rory was crying now, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

'Jess–' she said.

'Wait, Rory. Just answer me this. You came here. You came _to me_. Should I be hopeful, or should I just be bringing you Kleenex. Either way, I'm here. I just need to know.'

'I don't know,' Rory said.

'You don't know.'

'I don't. I'm sorry, I don't.'

'You don't know,' Jess repeated, tapping his foot, 'alright. No problem.'

'Really?'

'Hey, it's better than a No. Don't know I can work with.'


	4. Chapter 4

They walked into the bookstore, and almost immediately Rory felt the stress of their argument drop away.

'It's amazing, Jess! So many books.'

There were floor to ceiling bookshelves just about everywhere, and it had that musty book smell, as though just in entering the shop she were pressing her nose into a spine.

'You like it?'

'Like it? I could live here,' she said, and then spotting something, 'Ooh!'

Rory headed off to one set of shelves and ran her fingers across the spines. Jess watched her as she took reverentially slid a book out of its place and ran her hand over the cover, before opening it and doing the same on the pages. It was as though she was feeling her way into it, before she even got to the words. Jess watched from a shelf away. The place was empty except for him and Rory, and Mike, manning the desk and eating his sushi lunch.

'Who's this?' Mike asked, indicating Rory.

'Gilmore.'

'Really?'

'Real as they come.'

'Is she alright?'

Rory hadn't looked up when her last name was mentioned, and was now wandering between shelves, eyes casting around the spines like a devotee in a shrine.

'I think so.'

'Big reader?' Mike asked.

'Biggest,' Jess said.

'Let's hope she's got a big wallet.'

'Not likely, she's living on my paycheck at the moment.'

'Guess we'll stay broke then.'

Jess walked up to where Rory was thumbing through a novel.

'What have you got there?'

She held up the cover to him, grinning:

'Dawn Powell!'

'Dawn who?'

'Powell! She's amazing. And totally rare. She was totally overlooked in her time, and still is, but you have a Dawn Powell – an original Dawn Powell!'

'What's the price on that?'

Rory flicked to the first page.

'Four dollars.'

'How much should it be?' Jess asked.

'Maybe 400?'

'Shit.'

Rory fingered her pockets and held up a few notes:

'Too late, Mariano.'

'Hey, Gilmore, that's my nest egg you're holding there.'

Rory tilted her head:

'I'll look after it,' she said, walking to the counter.

'She's about to rip us off, Mike,' Jess warned.

'Great. That's four dollars.'

'You want twenty for it?' Rory asked.

'Sure,' Mike said, 'you don't know how haggling works do you?'

'Hey, that's my money, you know,' Jess said from across the room.

Rory turned:

'I'll pay you back, I promise.'

'Whatever.'

Returning with the book tucked safely under her arm, Rory looked around.

'I think I could spend all day here.'

'Yeah? If you want to volunteer, I'm sure Mike would want a break.'

'Mike would,' said Mike.

'Sure,' Rory said, eyes glowing.

Jess smiled.

'So it's not so bad?'

'Jess, it's amazing. Where did you get all this?'

'We bought the old owner out. Well, about nine of us did. And I didn't help all that much,' Jess said, 'It's not really a goldmine. But we've got the apartment upstairs, too – where some of the guys live. We manage.'

Rory idly ran her fingers of some of the books stacked in the central table.

'I love it. It's so chaotic.'

'Like a bookshop should be, right?'

'Absolutely,' Rory said, smiling again.

'You're in a better mood.'

'That's why I had to talk to you before we came in.'

'Damn, shouldn't've let you herd me around like that,' Jess said, raising his hands in defeat.

'We Gilmores are great herders,' Rory admitted, 'Men, children, flora, fauna'

'All kingdom, phylums, and orders at your beck and call,' he growled.

'Actually, the plural of phylum is phyla.'

'And I missed one, didn't I?'

'Maybe,' Rory replied, busying herself with the books.

'Don't want to embarrass me in my place of work?' Jess asked.

'Not in front of Dawn Powell.'

Jess thought for a second –– 'Classes.'

'Right!'

'Gold star for me,' Jess muttered.

'See, you could have passed. I still don't understand why –'

Jess shook his head.

'I couldn't go back to that school. Taking the whole year again.'

'So it was a pride thing?' Rory asked.

'Maybe. Partly. Is that so hard to get?'

'I used to think so.'

'Not anymore?' Jess asked, moving closer to her. All of a sudden, there was electricity in the air, and the musty smell of the books in her head seemed to make her dizzy. Or maybe it was Jess, so close, and looking so good. Bookshops, she thought, really suited him.

Rory wrapped the book around her chest defensively, as though to keep her distance from him. They were quickly backing into another wall of books.

'I guess everyone has their own things.'

'Things?'

'Things they won't compromise. Parts of themselves.'

'Uh-huh,' Jess moved closer again, his voice dropping low. The store was quiet, and they were alone in a cloister of bookshelves, out of sight even of Mike. Rory pressed the book harder against her chest. Leaning in, he said quietly, looking her straight in the eyes:

'I missed you, Rory.'

He reached a hand out to adjust a strand of hair that had fallen over her face, and asked, voice barely audible.

'Did you miss me?'

'Uh-huh,' Rory answered, letting the book drop from her chest to her knees.

'Woo, sorry guys,' Mike said as he turned the corner and almost ran into them. Rory and Jess flew apart and Mike raised his eyebrows:

'Alright, alright. Bit more tension than the bookshop's used to. I'll just sneak in here, just pop this one back on the shelf. Where's the E section? E-E-E…,' he flapped around, crouching and standing up again, looking for the right shelf.

'It's right there,' Jess said, frustrated, and added, pointing, 'A – B – C – D – E. Man–we're alphabetised, how hard is it?'

'Hey, I'm working here. This isn't some M-rated hangout for teenagers.'

'Go back to the desk, Mike,' Jess said.

'OK, OK, I'll be there – behind the desk, eyes closed, headphones in. It's not like we're gonna get a customer or anything, anyway.'

He walked always, leaving Jess and Rory standing, fidgeting.

'Hey, so, you want to get a bite to eat?' Jess asked.

'Sure. And a coffee.'

'Coffee, right. Can't forget coffee.'

'Not if you want me to be up to my usual conversationalist standard.'

'Hm,' Jess said, mock-considering, 'maybe withholding coffee isn't such a bad idea.'

'Hey!' Rory protested, 'We can't all speak in monosyllables.'

'Monosyllables? Is that an insult?'

'Just an observation.'

'You wound me, Gilmore,' he replied, hand over his heart as though in pain.

'Oh, I have one more thing to show you,' he said.

'Another bookshop? Are you a franchiser as well?'

'Not quite. But follow me,' he said, leading her around the shop to a shelf opposite where he knelt down slipped a small volume from under a box.

'What is it?' Rory said, as he passed her the book.

'Nothing much.'

She looked at the cover. It was a collection of short stories. And one of the authors' names down the bottom – Jess Mariano.

'You're in this!?'

Jess shrugged, 'It's nothing major.'

'Jess this is amazing! You're published.'

'It's just one story.'

'I've got to read it.'

'Oh geez.'

Rory started flicking through the pages, but Jess held up his hands.

'Hey, I've got a whole afternoon planned Gilmore. I know you're a fast reader but I haven't eaten breakfast yet. Read it later.'

'But Jess.'

'Come on. You want me to starve?'

'OK,' Rory conceded, 'can I keep it?'

'Yeah, it's for you.'

She reluctantly put both the Dawn Powell book and Jess' in her bag and then looked back up, smiling at Jess. She still couldn't believe that he had gotten published. In fact, she could barely believe he was standing right in front of her. And only two days ago – Dean.

'Hey, we going to eat? Or are you just gonna stand there doing puppy eyes all day?' Jess asked, pulling on his jacket, his gruffness not quite able to hide the smile on his face.

'Fine. You're the New York native, you lead.'

'Fine,' Jess said, and put an arm around Rory's shoulder, wrapping her into him as they left the shop and headed out into the city.

/_Coming up, a bit of romance, a farmboy interruption, and a worried mother enlists an uncle in a roadtrip. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

Jess wasn't one for a tourist's trip around New York; there was no Statue of Liberty, no Empire State, no Times Square. Instead, Rory was whisked along the subway to underground record stores, weird, delicious burger stores that had opened up in the middle of carparks, and other boutique bookstores, like Jess', which were labours of love and smelled amazing. Rory felt exhilarated. Jess would rarely leave her side, his arm always around her shoulder, or leaning next to her. She felt the warmth of his body like a constant pillar in this intimidating, changing city. As it started to get dark, and a bit colder, Jess took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. In answer, she took his hand in hers for the first time, their fingers threading easily together, and they shared a look that said, _this feels familiar_.

They had been wandering around aimlessly for a little while, their attention so focused around their joint hands that they didn't pay much notice to where they were going.

'Want to go for a drink?'

'A drink? Like an alcoholic one?'

'Well,' Jess said, 'I wasn't thinking of a Pepsi.'

'But we're too young.'

He shrugged, 'not everyone is as law-abiding as you, Gilmore.'

Rory hesitated, but looking at Jess, with a faint smile on his lips and with his eyebrows raised in that way that sent sparks down her body, she eventually nodded.

'Come with me,' Jess said, hand once again around her.

'You know last time we went drinking together…' Rory started.

'Yeah, yeah,' Jess said.

Jess led them into what looked like a completely generic apartment block, and they waited for an elevator in a faceless, linoleum lobby.

'Are we in the right place?' Rory asked.

'Trust me.'

'Who would live here? This looks like a serial killers' apartment.'

'Don't worry, we're not moving in.'

'But there's a bar here?'

'Yup.'

'With chairs and stuff?'

'With chairs, with tables, with bartenders, with everything that bars have.'

'And this is like a licensed bar?'

'Well, Rory, are you a licensed patron?'

'I guess not,' Rory admitted.

Jess took her hand in his and squeezed it.

'You'll like it. I promise.'

Rory couldn't help but smile back:

'OK.'

They got in the creaking lift and Jess pressed the button for the roof. It took almost three minutes to reach the top, and Rory looked around, trying to tell if the lift was still moving, or if it had gotten stuck halfway, a possibility she couldn't discount. Suddenly, though, the doors opened to reveal a spectacular rooftop bar, tarpaulins threaded with Christmas lights, a mishmash of different couches and beach chairs and hammocks, and beyond it all, the most beautiful vista of New York City. Along with the Christmas lights, the world seemed to twinkle, and it took Rory almost a minute to realise she was still in the lift, and that Jess was staring at her.

'Like it?'

'It's incredible, Jess. Where are we?'

'Remember Mike?'

'Yeah, the guy with the alphabet.'

'Well, this is where he moonlights.'

'He owns this, too?' Rory asked, following Jess out of the lift and into the bar. It was half-empty, a few groups laughing and drinking at the bar, and in the background they were playing something Rory swore Lane had played for her before, but she couldn't remember the name of it. Whatever it was, it suited the mood perfectly. Everything seemed to be suspended, floating and sparkling, and time seemed to run slowly. Rory couldn't decide if it was Jess, so close to her, his hand in hers, or this place, its unearthly view.

'Nah, he just works here. Take a seat, I'll get us a drink,' Jess said, heading towards where Mike was standing with open arms to greet him.

'Jess, my angel. Buy something. Keep us in business. Save my job.'

'Geez, Mike, why do you think I came here. For the discount.'

Rory watched them arguing for a while, and then chose a table off to the side, one with the best view. She looked over New York, wrapping Jess' jacket around her, and sighed, happily. She wasn't where she expected to be, but she was happy. Content. Her phone rang in her pocket, and she rooted around for a moment before finding it. She checked the caller. It was Dean. Dean. Who she hadn't talked to since the night they'd spent together. She looked back out at the city, which only a moment ago had seemed to offer so much potential, so much adventure and excitement. Now, it leered at her, brought her back to earth. She thought about ending the call, but she couldn't. She had to say something. Tell him something–that it was over–that it was a one-night thing. Which it had been, right?

'Hello?'

'Rory? Where are you Rory, I've been trying to find you all day.'

'Sorry, I've been–I've been away. My phone's been off.'

'I went to your Mom's place and she said you'd gone to New York. Is that true?'

'Yeah. It is. I'm there now.'

'Why, Rory? Are you trying to get away from me?'

'I don't know,' Rory said, 'Maybe. I couldn't–'

'What about me, Rory? Did you think about me? That night meant something to me too, and now you've just disappeared.'

'I know it did. I'm sorry. It was just, too much.'

'Too much? So you just run away? That's not like you, Rory.'

'You're married, Dean.'

'Don't you think I know that? That's why I need you here. We have to talk about it.'

'There's nothing to talk about!' Rory blurted out.

'But you told me you _loved _me.'

'I do love you, Dean. But I can't _be _with you.'

'Why are you in New York? Who are you staying with?'

Rory didn't answer.

'Wait.'

There was a pause, where Rory's stomach clenched.

'Is Jess in New York? Are you with _Jess?' _His voice had risen and Rory swallowed hard.

'Yes,' Rory said, and heard something getting kicked on the other end of the phone, as well as a loud _Fuck_.

'Dean, please, calm down. We haven't done anything. I'm not back with him.'

'So what, you're just friends? Don't patronise me, Rory.'

'I'm not patronising you!'

'Yeah? Well you're doing _something_ and it hurts. It fucking hurts. I love you, Rory. Last night meant everything to me. I thought––god, I'm so stupid. I thought it _meant_ something to you, too. I thought we would _be_ together. But what? It was nothing, after all? I'm just meant to go back to Lindsay and forget it ever happened. It happened, Rory. It happened!'

'I know it happened!'

'But it didn't mean anything,' he said, accusing.

'It _did_ mean something. I just––I just don't know what, yet.'

'Now isn't the time for a pro-con list, Rory. And it isn't the time to be running to Jess. God! I can't believe you went to Jess. After all this time you and him, still.'

Rory breathed deeply, holding back the tears she knew were coming.

'Dean. You're married. And until you're not, we can't be anything. I'm not saying you should get divorced, I'm not saying you should change your life for me. But we can't be together. Not now.'

'But you told me you wanted this!'

'I do–I did. But not now. I can't do it to Lindsay.'

'You don't even know Lindsay.'

'Then I can't let _you_ do this to Lindsay. I can't let myself do this _to myself_. I can't be that person. That person that breaks apart a marriage, that person waiting for her boyfriend to get home from his wife. I won't do that to myself. And yes, I'm staying with Jess. And it's none of your business. We have separate lives, Dean. You have Lindsay. You can't be angry at me for seeing Jess, when you have a whole_ marriage_.'

'Rory,' Dean's voice was soft now, almost begging, 'I love you. I don't love Lindsay.'

'Goodbye, Dean.'

'Rory–'

Rory cut him off, and then almost immediately tears starting falling down her cheeks and she let out a shuddering sigh. And just then, Jess returned, one huge glass of beer in each hand.

'Rory? What happened?'

'Nothing. I––I'm sorry. Please, take me home, Jess.'

_/next up, I potentially change the rating to M. Reconciliations, revelations, a shirt that gets stuck around someone's head at an inopportune moment._


	6. Chapter 6

_/just a short one for now, sorry. more soon. thanks for all the reviews, keeps me motivated!_

Jess took Rory back to his apartment, arm around her shoulders. Rory was comforted by the firm warmth of Jess near her, but she couldn't bring herself to answer his restrained, only slightly probing questions. She was being to unfair to him, she knew – taking his sympathy without letting him know why she needed it in the first place. She worried that, if he did know, he would leave, or tell her to leave. He never had been good at handling a difficult situation, and this was one of the most difficult. He hated Dean; he would hate the idea of her and Dean together. But Rory needed him there, holding her up, close to her, so she didn't tell him anything, and she felt awful about it.

For Dean's part, though, her tears ended more quickly than she expected. She felt an abstract sense of relief. Now that the phone call she knew was coming was done, the worst was over. Of course, there were consequences down the line, consequences for Lindsay, for Dean, and probably for her, but she had done the right thing, even though it was hard. Lorelai had been right; she never should have gotten involved. How was she always right?

Entering the apartment, Jess made Rory a cup of coffee and they sat down on the couch in the lounge together. Jess sat cross-legged next to her, watching her with a concerned gaze.

'Aren't you going to have one?' Rory asked, indicating the coffee.

'What, and stay up until 2am? I don't have your immunity.'

'It's hereditary.

'Yeah, seems like it.'

'What are you doing tomorrow?' Rory asked, hoping to avoid more tears, and more discussion about tears. Really, in these past few days, she had cried far too much.

'Working.'

'Early?'

'Not really,' he said, brushing it off.

'What time?'

'6AM.'

'6! But it's already so late. Go to bed Jess, I'm fine, honestly.'

'You tired?'

'Not really, I'll just read for a bit out here.'

'It's alright, Rory, I want to stay up.'

But Jess had red eyes already, and was stifling yawns.

'Please, Jess. Go to bed. I'm fine, I promise.'

He hesitated, and then said, staring into the lino of the kitchen.

'Rory…' he started, 'you've gotta tell me what's happening. I love that you're here,' he looked up briefly and then his gaze dropped again, 'but I need to know why.'

'I know, Jess. I will tell you soon. Tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Once you've slept. You won't like it, though,' she said quietly.

He shrugged:

'If it brought you here, how bad can it be?'

Rory said nothing. Jess stood up and then, again, hesitated.

'Rory, I––' Jess started, and then stopped.

'What is it, Jess?'

He looked at her.

'I'm not a good talker.'

'Neither am I. Well, at least not about this stuff. I'm a good rambler. I'm a champion rambler. In fact, my mother considers me her protégée in that respect. She taught me everything I know.'

'Rory,' he said softly.

'Sorry. Yes?'

There was a pause and the lounge was silent except for the slight hum of the refrigerator and, outside, the distant sirens of the city. Jess looked at her and said in a quiet, controlled voice.

'You know when we saw each other on the bus?'

Rory immediately knew what he meant; he was referring to the last time they had seen each other in Star's Hollow – when Jess had gone to California to see his father without telling her anything. She nodded, holding her breath.

'And I said nothing, told you nothing. Couldn't make myself tell you I was leaving.'

'Yes,' Rory said, her voice high and unsteady.

'Rory,' he said, his eyes glistening, 'I think about that everyday. What I should've said instead, how I needed to explain what I had to do. To make you understand – just to say _something _instead of just sitting there,' he sighed in frustration at himself and scratched his head. Rory thought in that moment that he looked more beautiful than she'd ever seen him.

'Not telling you, just leaving like that…', he started, before trailing off, appearing to gather his thoughts. After a few moments he said simply, flatly:

'It's the biggest regret of my life.'

Her breath caught in her throat. She felt like she had to say something, anything. _It's okay. I forgive you. I've forgiven you in my head a hundred times already –_and, just faintly in the background–_ I've done something even worse. _She opened her mouth and closed it again.

'Sleep well, Rory.'

Finally, Rory found her tongue, and said uselessly:

'Night, Jess.'


	7. Chapter 7

Jess closed the door behind him, leaving Rory alone in the lounge. She stood up and went to the bathroom, checking her hair in the mirror, making sure her eyes were not red from the tears earlier in the night. She had a sudden urge to call her mother, but she resisted, knowing how late it was. Jess had been so perfect, even when she had been unreasonable. He hadn't even pushed her to answer his totally reasonable questions. Surely, that meant he would be reasonable about Dean as well?

'Jess, I slept with Dean,' she said to the mirror, and then added, 'I'm so so sorry.'

She meant it in that moment, but thinking about it, it rang false. Why be sorry, really? Her and Jess had been broken up – for almost a year. Jess had left without saying goodbye. They had been over. But Dean, Dean was still there. Even married, he had been there. What could Jess expect, her to do nothing, to wait for him? She was getting angry and she frowned into the mirror, before letting the expression drop. Jess had said none of these things, at least not yet, and there was no point in running through them in her head. What she really had to do was to tell him, whatever his reaction might be, he deserved her honesty – especially after putting her up like this.

She didn't need to apologise to Jess, but she hoped he would understand that it was a mistake, the product of a long, fond history between her and Dean and an error of judgement. She so hoped that he would be reasonable. It was vitally important to her that he thought well of her. Because she loved him. She looked at the mirror and nodded slightly to her own reflection, realising it was true. She loved Jess. Even after all this time, the person she dreamed about most often, the person who took her mind off her tutorials every other day –– was Jess. She didn't think she'd ever really gotten over him, and each time Luke would mention him and what he was up to, Rory's heart would suddenly beat faster and her stomach would fill again with teenage butterflies. And he had written a book! _The book!_

Rory returned to the couch and pulled her loot from the day out, the novel of Dawn Powell's and Jess' book – or, the book with Jess in it. It was called _Semblance, Resemblance_. She ran her fingers over the cover, the embossed letters, and then eagerly opened it, her heart doing a small flip when she saw 'Jess Mariano' written on the title page.

Just when she was scouring the table of contents for his name, the door to Jess' room opened and he walked in, looking sheepish.

'Gotta brush my teeth,' he said.

In the crazed second when the door opened, Rory had hidden the book under her backpack, pretending to just be sitting there thoughtfully. But she ended up blushing fiercely, for no good reason.

'You alright?' He asked, probably looking at her redness.

'Yes, fine.'

Jess walked to the bathroom. He was wearing a pair of old trackpants which hung weightlessly from his hips, and a tight-fitting shirt that she recognised. On one of the first times she'd met Jess, he had worn that top, long-sleeved, slightly blue, it hugged the lines of his chest, and it made her blush again now, as it had back then.

'Isn't that the top when you were wearing when Luke pushed you into the lake?' Rory asked, trying to suppress a smile and to distract from her blush.

'Yeah,' Jess barked, 'and it's never been the same since.'

'Looks alright to me,' Rory said, intending the comment to be neutral, but ending up sounding pitchy and nervous.

Jess looked at her:

'Oh yeah?'

Rory shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

Jess picked up a pink toothbrush, layered on some toothpaste and proceeded to brush away, staring at himself in the mirror. Rory watched this ritual with interest, feeling (somewhat absurdly) like she was getting a secret glimpse into his character. He was a hard brusher. She thought to herself: his gums won't thank him, and this thought was so ridiculous, so completely removed from anything she had been thinking or feeling that she laughed out-loud.

'What?' Jess asked, in a persecuted voice.

'Sorry! It's nothing. I've just never seen you brush your teeth before.'

'Geez, what's that supposed to mean?'

'No, no,' Rory said, grinning, 'it's just funny, watching you.'

'So you're telling me I brush my teeth funny? Damn, Rory, is there anything you don't know how to do better than me?'

'You brush your teeth fine. A little hard, but fine. Well, actually, you're going to waste a lot of money on toothbrushes. And you know, with that toothbrush inflation, that could really turn into a bit of a financial headache.'

Jess raised an eyebrow:

'Anything else.'

'Nope, I'm out.'

'Still don't see what's so funny about it,' he said, half-muffled by foam.

'I've just never seen you do it. It's all very domestic.'

'Get used to it, roomie,' he said.

He spat in the bowl, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and then lent under the sink to drink some water from the tap. He looked at her, accusingly, waiting for her to make some comment. Rory feigned disinterest. He crossed the room and just as he was about to return to his room, Rory said:

'Hold up, Mister. Did you brush your tongue?'

'What–you want me to say Ah?'

Rory shrugged:

'You're alright. This time. But next time, I'll be making sure'

'Glad to have the supervision,' Jess said, and his lips twisted into a smile, 'goodnight, again.'

'Night.'

As soon as the door was closed, Rory retrieved the book from under her bag and started to read.

It was amazing. Only thirty pages, she read it in ten minutes and then immediately read it a second time. She didn't know what to think of it, knowing only that she loved it. It surprised her, but it also felt – in some obscure way – familiarly Jess, recognisably _him_. She was not sure what she had expected, perhaps something resembling the Beat generation that Jess seemed to read and re-read most thoroughly, but the story seemed deliberately to turn against all the Beat conventions, to acknowledge them and move away. It had their blunt matter-of-factness, but the prose would suddenly rise up and seem to turn into poetry, the sounds of the words flowing together until it felt like she was reading a kind of chant, or a lyric poem. The dialogue was typically Jess. The characters rounded on each other, circling, analysing, holding back, only occasionally throwing out a few neatly-chosen words – like little bombs, and then stepping back to watch the reaction.

But it was the story that moved her most. It was the story of a son going to meet his estranged father for the first time, but after a while it occurred to Rory that it could be autobiographical. It was with this thought in mind that she re-read it, and after a few pages, she was almost in tears again. It was rare that a book moved her so dramatically, and short stories never did, but taking the protagonist's voice for a proxy of Jess' own, every word came into focus, and felt like a confession – all the things that Jess himself had never been able to say out loud, what he'd never confided in her but perhaps had always wanted to. His resentment towards his mother, his alienation from his upbringing, his hopeful, hesitant thoughts of his father, nurtured in secret all these years, which suddenly were tested by his father's belated arrival in his life. His confusion, his regrets. In the story, he left his beloved sister behind to go and see his father, and Rory wondered, hoping she was not being narcissistic, that this sister perhaps alluded also to her. She had a doll's blue eyes, she was smart as a whip. The protagonist, leaving for Oregon on a bus, had watched his sister out the window and felt her eyes boring into him, felt himself splitting in two. Was that how Jess had felt about leaving her?What had he said? _It's the biggest regret of my life_.

Rory felt her own pulse in her neck, and felt faintly dizzy. She knew, already, what she was about to do, and adrenalin filled her veins – the decision was made. She didn't know whether it was the right one, but she wanted it. She closed the book with trembling hands and stood up. Carefully, she opened the door to Jess' room, the light from the lounge falling in a rectangle over where Jess was asleep on the floor. His eyes twitched in the light, but he didn't wake. His lips were slightly open.

'Jess,' she whispered, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

There was no response, just the rise-and-fall sound of his breathing. Rory felt her way across the room, her heart beating so hard that it filled her head and she wondered if it would wake him up. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the room, and out the small window she could see the moon, blue-tinged and large above the city. She lay down behind Jess, the floorboards cold to her touch.

'Jess?' she whispered again, drawing herself closer to him and then, tentatively, putting an arm around his chest from behind. He was warm, firm.

She felt him stir.

'Rory? Are you OK?' he turned his head blearily to look at her.

'I'm fine,' she replied, and seeing his eyes dart down to look at her arm around him, 'I'm good.'

There was a pause, and Rory wondered for a harrowing second whether she'd made a mistake. Then, he raised his hand to hers, his fingers running one-by-one over her own. Rory shivered. They both stared at their hands, their hesitant meeting, as though it would decide something for both of them. Jess slipped his fingers between hers and he smiled. He turned his head to look at her. He was grinning mischievously.

'Are you big-spooning me, Gilmore?'

She laughed.

'So what if I am. This is the 21st century.'

'We'll see about that,' Jess growled, turning over to his side to face her.

They stared at each other for a while, smiling dumbly, their hands still tangled together.

'I wanted this so long,' Jess said.

'Me too.'

They were whispering. Anything louder would have broken something, the delicate contact between them, their hands, their eyes.

'Really?' Jess asked.

'Yes. Ever since you wrote on the margins of my copy of _Howl_.'

'The secret way into Rory Gilmore's heart – literary vandalism.'

She smiled, and then suddenly Jess leant in to kiss her. Their lips pressed together, just for a second, and Rory felt like she was aware of every part of her body at once. She pulled him closer and Jess responded, curling an arm around her back which pushed their bodies tightly together. They kissed again, less chastely now, less like the teenagers they had been, more like the adults they had become. Rory felt like she would be happy to stay there, tucked into him, forever.

She ran a hand under his clothes, to the skin of his back and felt him breathe in suddenly and then bring her closer still, their lips drawing back and immediately meeting again as though they couldn't bear to be separated. And they couldn't. Jess kissed the line of her jaw and around to her neck, and there he whispered.

'I love you, Rory. You don't need to say anything, but I love you, alright?'

'I love you, too, Jess. Don't you know? I love you too.'

His chest heaved, and Rory thought for a moment that he was about to cry. Instead his face broke into the broadest, most genuine smile she had ever seen on his face. He laughed, happily. There wasn't even a hint of his usual irony, not a shadow of sarcasm. He looked at her like an article of faith, and then he pulled her legs around his hips and (with only a small grunt of effort, Rory noted appreciatively), lifted them both up from the ground, so that they were standing, Rory's back against the wall, and Jess kissed her: her lips, her jaw, her collarbone. Rory felt dazed. She felt like she was in a book, a book she probably wouldn't read.

'Take off those stupid sweatshirts,' Rory said, as he worked on her neck.

Jess pulled back,

'What are you calling stupid?'

Rory shrugged, and, raising her chin commandingly, repeated:

'Off!'

'Yes, ma'am,' Jess said, pulling two of his hoodies off at once to leave only the famous lake-shirt. Rory ran her hands over his chest, from his hips, to his shoulders and then kissed him again.

'You're – uh,' Rory started, unsure what to say, and then gushed, 'you're really really hot.'

'Hot?' Jess laughed.

'I don't know! Handsome? _Sexy_? What am I meant to say?' Rory protested.

'Hot works,' Jess said, with his twisting smile, and kissed her, 'But you're beautiful, Rory.'

'How come everything sounds better when you say it?' Rory asked, smiling.

'I'm just cooler than you,' he said.

'Right. That's it. Take off that shirt.'

'What, this shirt?' Jess asked, with mock outrage, 'this has a lot of sentimental value, Gilmore.'

'Do it.'

Jess pulled it up over his head, revealing the slim muscular frame of his torso, before the shirt got stuck around his ears.

'You're right. You _are_ cooler, aren't you?' Rory asked, helping him pull it over his head.

Finally, it came off, and she used her hand to flatten his hair.

'Thanks,' he said when she had finished, and he moved in to kiss her again.

'Wait,' Rory said, holding up a hand.

'What?'

'I want to look at you.'

Jess half-smiled, and stood back slightly.

At first, Rory pretended to be appraising him seriously, as one might a piece of art, with an expression of concentration. Soon, though, she forgot the joke and really was staring. She put her hands on his chest, the swell of his pecs, the soft black hairs.

'You're beautiful, Jess,' she said, and this time she didn't feel ridiculous and Jess didn't smile.

They kissed again, and this time Rory was conscious of the moon, its light casting shadow over Jess' body, dappling him with light. His outline seemed to glow. Jess' hands ran down to the buttons of her shirt but again, Rory stopped him. She whispered:

'You're not done yet.'

Jess looked at her questioningly, and Rory put her hands on his hips in answer.

'Really?' He asked.

'Can I still surprise you, Mariano?' she teased.

'Never stopped.'

He pulled down his trackpants and stepped out of them, before kicking them away across the floor. Rory looked at him naked before her, touched him, and then Jess pressed her once more against the wall, kissing her hair, her forehead, his cheeks, her neck – and this time Rory felt not only every part of her body, but every part of his as well – and for the first time in her life, she seemed to stop thinking entirely. The voice in her head, the analytical, cautious woman that lived in her mind, seemed to disappear, and Rory was just _there_, in her body and a part of everything, moving with Jess towards the bed.


	8. Chapter 8

/_sorry for the long wait!_

'It starts at eight,' Luke called, looking dismally up the staircase.

'Got it, no problem,' Lorelai answered from above.

'It's already five to eight.'

'But this is Star's Hollow time we're talking about here.'

'What's Star's Hollow time?' Luke asked, exasperated.

'Aren't small towns meant to have a who-cares, the clock doesn't rule us attitude? Stick it to the big cities, we don't run on anybody's schedule but our own. Let's leave the harvest till next year.'

'What harvest? What kind of farmers are these?'

'Poor ones,' Lorelai said, popping around the corner so that Luke breathed a sigh of relief.

'How does this look? Too librarian? Oh, or is it too sexy librarian?'

'It looks fine,' Luke says, shrugging.

'Ah,' said Lorelai sagely, 'but is it _fine _fine, or is it just _fine_ – like, sure, you don't look great but you can get away with going to the store kind of fine?'

'I dunno. The first one.'

'Really?' she asked, looking down at herself, 'I better go get changed then.'

'What? I thought that was the right answer!' Luke asked, starting to pace around the lounge.

'I don't want to look _fine_ fine, we're going to the movies. At Kirk's.'

'You know Kirk is a stickler for punctuality.'

'Yeah, but he's also a push-over, so he'll start the movie over again if we miss a bit,' Lorelai called back downstairs.

'Here's an idea,' Luke began, 'Why don't we just leave now and not miss any of it?'

'Yeah, well, I've seen it anyway.'

'You have?'

Lorelai appeared again on the staircase:

'Of course I've seen it before, it's _Psycho_.'

'But you said you wanted to see it.'

'I do want to see it. Again.'

'This is a waste of time,' Luke said, frustrated.

'Hey,' she said, walking down the stairs, 'I'm ready, let's go. It'll only take a minute to get there and we'll barely have missed anything. I won't even stop for popcorn.'

'Really?'

'Not even that. Coffee, yes, but popcorn, no. I will go starving – destitute if you will. I will sacrifice the best part about going to the movies just so we don't miss a second.'

'We can get popcorn,' he said grudgingly.

'Oo and donuts?'

'Whatever.'

Lorelai got her bag, with Luke already standing by the door. Lorelai turned to him and smiled.

'Hey, I may have seen _Psycho_ before – probably about fifteen times, but,' she said, touching his arm, 'I've never seen it with you.'

Luke smiled back, mollified.

'You know the film will be the same whether I'm there or not, right?' he said, teasing.

'Yes, but this way I get to see you freak out in the scary bits.'

'I'm not going to 'freak out'. When have I ever freaked out?'

'You freak out all the time!' Lorelai said, locking the door behind them.

'I do not. When was the last time?'

'Luke, you freak out every time I get my cellphone out at the diner.'

'But that's against the rules.'

'Rule freaker-outer,' Lorelai said, pointing at him.

'Get in the car,' Luke sighed.

Kirk's latest entrepreneurial venture was to project classic films on the side of his mother's house, and create a kind of drive-in cinema. To this end, he had converted their lawn into a makeshift carpark, and it was there that Lorelai finally pulled up the jeep, donuts and coffee in hand. There was no one else there, as Lorelai had predicted. In spite of this, the movie had already started.

'Play it from the beginning, Kirk,' Lorelai yelled, as she put down the window.

'The film started at 8 o'clock on the dot. It's now 8.08.'

'Kirk, there's nobody else here,' Luke said exasperated, and then turned to Lorelai and muttered, 'I told you this would happen.'

After a protracted argument, Kirk reluctantly started the film again and then sat off to the side of the screen in a garden chair, watching the proceedings impassively.

'Is he just going to sit there all night?' Luke asked.

'Probably.'

'It gives me the creeps.'

'You're missing the movie!' Lorelai protested.

'There's nothing happening anyway. She's just driving.'

'Can't you _hear_ the music?'

'Yeah, so what?'

'_So what?_ This is a classic soundtrack. This is like _the_ thriller soundtrack. This is _the _something-bad-is-going-to-happen music.'

'Yeah, but right now she's just driving,' Luke said.

'It's building tension, Luke!'

'OK, OK, I'm watching.'

Luke committed to giving the film his whole attention, and managed it for a few minutes until he started looking over at Lorelai, who kept moving about in her seat, putting on and taking off her jumper, picking up a donut only to put it down again, uneaten.

'You alright?' He asked eventually.

'Huh? I'm fine.'

'What's wrong?'

She smiled at him weakly.

'I just keep thinking about Rory.'

'I figured.'

'It's not like her to run off like this. She says she's ok, but I don't know. I guess it's not like us to have a fight either. But to go to Jess? After sleeping with Dean? I think she's confused. I don't think she knows what she wants.'

'Maybe she wants Jess,' Luke said, a little hopefully.

'Maybe. I just –. I just want to talk to her about it.'

'She'll talk when she's ready. Jess'll take care of her.'

'You think?'

'Of course he will. He's not a bad kid.'

'I know.'

'He loves Rory,' Luke said.

'Still?'

'Every time I talk to him, he asks about her. She'll be OK, you'll see.'

'I guess you're right.'

Luke leaned over the seat and kissed her. Lorelai smiled, feeling a warm spread of happiness building inside her.

'Luke?'

'Yeah?'

'I really like you.'

He smiled, 'I really like you too.'

Luke reached across again to kiss her, but stopped when a beam of light struck in the face.

'Ergh! What the hell,' he said.

'No hanky panky,' said Kirk.

'Hanky panky!' Luke yelled.

'Right. Rule number 3' Kirk replied, a little shakily.

'Rule number 3! That's it, we're leaving,' Luke said and then ordered Lorelai, 'start up the car.'

'But the movie?'

'Scrap the movie. There's better things we can do with our evening.'

'Ooh, dirty,' Lorelai said, and turned the key.

It was only starting to get light when the phone rang and woke Lorelai. She sat up immediately, feeling intuitively that something was wrong. Beside her, Luke stirred but stayed deeply asleep. Lorelai went into the hall and picked up the phone.

'Rory?'

'Mom!'

'Rory, what's wrong?'

Lorelai could hear the tears in her voice and almost immediately they sprang up in her own.

'What's happened?' she asked again.

'It's Jess. I told him about Dean and ––. Mom, I…'

'I'm coming to get you.'

'No, Mom, you don't have to.'

'I'm coming. Message me your address.'

'OK. Mom, I'm sorry.'

'See you soon, honey. I love you.'

Lorelai hang up the phone. Her body was filled with adrenaline and anger. Jess had done something. He had made Rory cry, again.

'What happened?' Luke asked, as she walked back into the bedroom.

'I'm going to kill Jess,' she said, car keys in hand, pulling on a coat.

'Jess?'

'Yes, Jess. _Your_ nephew.'

'What happened?'

'Rory's crying – I don't why, I don't know what happened. But something is going to happen to him.'

'I'm coming too.'

'I don't need you to come,' Lorelai said, brusquely.

'I'm his uncle. If he needs killing, I'm going to be the one to do it.'


End file.
